Extreme Golfing Bit #5

“GO FIND HER!” one of the men shouted angrily. Her!? I thought to myself, offended. “And get everyone else up here!” He added. More people?

The three men split up and started running in different directions “their mother” got into the car and started driving along the path. Throughout the golf course there was a dirt road primarily meant for the caddies but it was wide enough for a car too. I suddenly had a feeling of being trapped. I know, I’m outdoors, but recently the golf course had gotten tougher on security. Great big electric fences to be precise. All around the perimeter. It was apparently to keep out the cows and sheep that had been coming in from the surrounding farms and tearing up the course. They hadn’t fenced up the entrance at hole thirteen because there would be no livestock coming in from that direction and it made sense leaving another entrance. After all there was a residential area close by there, it’d be pointless going miles around to the members entrance. Me and Shawn had visited there before, it’s even more hyperbolic than these new fences. Every exit was blocked off except the way I came in.

One of the men was striding towards me. Or at least my thicket of trees. He was tall dark and greasy. His face was locked in an angry sneer and his shoulder length hair was clumped together like worms. His walk seemed purposeful and I was a little worried that he’d spotted me (though with the car gone it was hard even for me to see him) so I crouched down further and took a few steps backward. He was up to the tree line now and seemed to be peering into the darkness. He made a nasal sound as if thinking before he marched into the trees. It looked like he was going in a different direction but then he spun around – too quickly for me to react – and dived at me. He knocked me backwards and grabbed my arms pinning them to the ground. I could feel twigs and pinecones dig into my back, I could smell the earthy grime and a faintly minty chewing gum. Altogether it was much less comfortable than the pool table.

“Why’d ya kill him, huh?” the man asked shaking me.

“It’s not exactly fair that all the blame rests on my doorstep.” I said. He had a much shorter fuse that Dick, I deduced, from the way he thumped me across the face.

“He was my brother!” He yelled I could see him burning with rage and for just a second I could empathise. But then I regained control.

“I’m somebody’s brother!” I lied, but I knew got my point across due to a second thump.

“Why are you a boy anyway?” He asked as if only just noticing. I thought about giving him a biological answer but quickly realised I didn’t know.

“Apparently your brother was a bit of a fag. Tried to rape me and everything.” I said trying to maintain a casual tone as a particularly sharp twig jabbed into my back.

“That’s not–” He went to slap me again but when he lifted his hand off my wrist I grabbed him by the throat. I pulled my other arm away and made him loose his balance. I rolled over so I was on top of him. I still had my hand on his throat but I released a little pressure, so he could breathe.

“Sure we can play rough if you want, but I’m on top, alright?” he wasn’t gonna give in easy. He started bucking under me and because I wasn’t positioned on him properly he threw me off with relative ease. He then leapt back on top of me, I was face down this time but he started pounding the back of my head with his fists. I was starting to see stars and felt almost like I was gonna pass out again. His legs were either side of me and he was sitting on my lower back. Almost as if he was giving me a massage; my left hand was trapped between my side and his thigh. I know it was hardly “fighting like a man” (like my dad had jokingly tried to teach me once) but I pinched him in the thigh. And held it digging my nails in.

It took a few seconds but he eventually noticed the pain and yelped. At that exact moment I arched my back and threw him forward like a Buckaroo face first into a tree. I scuttled backwards a bit and managed to get on my knees.

He turned round, dark rivers of blood running from his nose. His glare was pretty terrifying, a glower of pure rage that looked like something from 28 Days Later.

I was genuinely frightened when he leapt at me again. But I really started to feel the adrenaline pumping. It was exhilarating.

Dick had been easy to run circles around but this guy was clearly not a words man. I swung my fist rather carelessly in his direction and made contact with his head. But he swung his fist at me twice as hard smashing into my jaw. I fell backwards instinctively trying to grab a hold of something as my attacker came back cursing and snarling with uncontrolled anger. He came down on me hard winding me as I felt pain erupt around my lower ribs. My hands were still free so I scrabbled around with them, finding a dead branch with a pointed – but not particularly sharp – edge. I took another smack to the face, this time I was sure he’d dislodged a tooth as I started to taste blood. As he was pulling back for another go I pulled myself up and stabbed at his face with my stick.

I burst an eye ball and caught a brief glance of dark patches of thick goo flop out of the socket before he turned away yelling – screaming – in anguished suffering.

I noticed him reach under his shirt withdrawing a knife from it’s sheath. I had a similar thought and – abandoning the stick – I dived into my pocket withdrawing the knife, but not quickly enough.

His aim was clearly off, though, I’m sure with both eyes the blade would have ripped into my torso. Instead the metal cut a deep gash in the side of my arm just below where Dick had cut me.

My left hand was trapped between myself and him. I started to feel a wet warmth spread across it. His body tensed and he grunted. Coughed, throwing blood into my face. I pushed him off of me and I heard the knife pop out of his stomach with a squelch.

Nice one Rye.